A Kitchen Story
by onpenandpaper
Summary: Once almost a drop-out, now a successful and well-known Chef, Uzumaki Naruto meets his match, again. AU, NS 2014 Contribution
1. Then and Now

The night was his ultimate stage; a platform where his skills were revered, his plates a work of art and his dishes caused lines to form outside the street. It wasn't very often that he would take a peek at the customers from the kitchen; he had neither the luxury nor time, not to mention the window wasn't exactly fit for anyone's viewing pleasure, including himself.

That doesn't mean he never attempted, especially when he was beginning to gain popularity among food critics the world over. Many would just randomly pop in and were it not for the help of his expert receptionist he wouldn't have a clue who goes through the restaurant doors. It wasn't uncommon, either, to spot a critic in disguise, especially when they would insist he make something that wasn't in the menu. Even something so simple as a hamburger and french fry dish was so thoroughly scrutinized; as it was, you can even bet a side dish was going to make a food magazine column. He wouldn't dare complain, because those critics do bring him customers and Michelin Stars. He just wished they didn't come one after the other.

Besides, he only wanted one person's opinion. It was unfortunate she hadn't come by; she had to be the most famous critic out there - and the most beautiful. They say she ate a lot for someone who's so fit (he actually prefered unbelievably sexy ), but the catch was the dish had to be - in her own words - immensely satisfying that there is no other option but to want more. A visit from her is worth a magazine spread, and her critique another block of curious food lovers from all over.

But that wasn't the reason why he wanted her in his restaurant. Sakura Haruno didn't start out as a famous critic. She started out as his critic. Well, not really. Back then he only really knew how to cook ramen despite being a culinary student. She would come over and use the fancy words, writing her critique on a piece of paper and reading it out loud. He loved being praised, because he never got that in his classes. They never took him seriously, being a kid of a very famous chef; he thought it only fit that he wouldn't take his classes seriously either.

They argued about his poor grades. She said that ramen wasn't the only dish in the world. Sure it was, he responded. That he shouldn't be wasting his parents' money. That he should at least show some effort and not be a dick in class. He remembered saying something like "stop talking you sound like my mother" or "you're not even my girlfriend and I cook for you"… He got slapped for that.

Then she left town and moved to another school. It was only then that he realized she was right.

He worked his ass off and in two years became the best in his class, forgetting everything he mastered about ramen. In three years he had started his own restaurant, and in another three made it world famous. He never knew what happened all those years they didn't manage to see each other. But in the time that passed when he began to gain praise from pretty much everyone, he found that it was still her words and acknowledgment he wanted most.

Maybe he was trying to settle an old score. That he didn't end up a guy with a small-time ramen stand and that his grades in his last two years were enough to erase his bad ones. Maybe he wanted to brag about the Michelin Stars he got without the help of her critique.

Or maybe he wanted to satisfy himself knowing that his dishes could so easily win her over and she would forget all the silly things immature men say.

The usual crowd was present in the early hours, but being a weekday has its perks. Not only did they close earlier but the clientele were usually pretty ordinary. No fuss, no special requests, no annoying food critic wannabes. By 1:30 AM there were very few tables occupied and most of the kitchen staff were beginning to clear up.

He was still on the stove trying out a new dish. His sous chef Konohamaru watched eagerly, taking mental notes.

"Stir this up for me, will you?" He handed Konohamaru the wooden spoon and turned to look for an ingredient he had shoved in one of the cupboards earlier that night.

He was busy searching when the bridge of his nose crinkled. One sniff was indication enough. "Lower the heat, Konohamaru."

He busied himself once more but the scent was still in his nose. "Konohamaru-"

"Hey Chef… Miss Haruno is pink-haired, right?"

"Uhh… yeah? I believe she's had a couple of color changes these past years," he chuckled. "I was a fan of the light brown hair for some time, but only just; it made her look ordinary. And you need to lower the flame,"

"And… does she have a tattoo shaped like a diamond? On her forehead, I mean?"

"Well, actually it's a birthmark. I used to joke around that she was pretty hardcore getting a tattoo as a bab- wait, why are you asking?"

"Be-because she just walked through the door and is taking a seat,"

Naruto almost pushed a whole cart full of dirty dishes to get closer to the kitchen window. His eyes immediately found her unmistakable pink hair as she sat with her back to him. He was shitting his pants why oh why didn't Konohamaru just say it immediately? He didn't even catch a glimpse of her face! DAMMIT!

He jumped at the sound of the kitchen phone, his hand immediately pressing the button. "Sai god dammit where was the trusted forewarning when I needed it most jesus why is there no waitress on her?"

Ten-Ten calmly raised her hands before pressing in the double doors. "I'll handle it, Chef!"

"WAIT!"

The young lady paused as he wiped the sweat off his brow. He stepped to her, his voice lowered to a whisper, "Uh… Try your best to make her turn sideways, will you?"

Almost forgetting that he still had Sai on the line, he heard his voice echo the kitchen. "We're closing in fifteen minutes, Chef. Most of the guests have left and-"

"Close the doors, Sai. Just say we're on… I dunno. Inventory count, "

"That only happens at the end of the quarter, Chef."

"I don't care. Just do it. And you owe me big time this is too major of a slip up, man."

"My apologies, Chef. I had a hard time flushing my-"

"OK OK I GET IT now shut the doors."

He shifted his focus to the view outside his small kitchen window. A lot of people had already left, save for their usual clientele who stayed for the drinks. She was almost alone in the main hall, flipping through the menu and thinking about lord-knows-what. He knew all her favorite dishes. They weren't in the menu, but no problemo. All she had to do was ask.

Ten Ten finally approached her table and he found that the bustling sounds in the kitchen and the scent of his burning sauce did not compare to the sensation that was brimming at the pit of his stomach. His heart drummed loudly inside his chest as beads of sweat gathered in his forehead; anticipation rising steadily as his eyes locked on the strands of her hair. He knew what she looked like, he had enough magazines at home with her on it, even if it was just a small one on the editor's page; still, she always looked best in person, what with those beautiful green eyes and bright smile… did her voice still sound the same? His sure as hell didn't, not that it mattered.

He found himself leaning towards the window at the first sign of Ten Ten making a conversation. Sakura was talking, alright, but she was staring at the menu. An order had just come in the kitchen but thankfully his other sous chef took charge. Everyone else was watching him; waiting for his orders in collective nervousness.

It seemed that Sakura was having a hard time choosing, and Ten Ten was likewise having a hard time following his orders. He could tell she was really trying; pointing at the menu and talking, even gesturing to the wine bar behind. She dropped her pen, not intentionally, he was certain - and just like that, Sakura immediately tried to help her pick it up. She bent over and he saw; her nose and lips the same old small but beautiful, her face was slightly longer but her cheeks more defined, her arms, long and slender. And he leaned in just a little bit more to catch a glimpse of her creamy legs and her little black dress. He never imagined a side profile view would have his heart somersault inside his chest, and absolutely nothing prepared his knees from weakening when she smiled at Ten Ten before handing over the menu.

Calm down. You know everything, it's all in your head. She's going to ask for her favorite dish. And you're going to make it the best dish the world has ever known. She will love it and she will love you and you will live happily ever-

"Chef!"

Snapped out of his musings, he was briefly surprised to find Ten Ten back in the kitchen standing next to him.

"What is it? What does she want?"

"Ramen, Chef. She wants ramen."


	2. Change

_Ramen. She wants ramen._

He turned around and faced the stove, wiping his face with a handkerchief. The only orders that were coming in were desserts and only Shino, his pastry chef, was occupied. The sauce that he had been working on earlier was slowly burning and no one even bothered to turn off the heat. Then again who was he to blame. Sakura Haruno just walked in the house.

_Ramen_. When was the last time he made ramen? Fucking hell. He was sweating his balls.

Konohamaru stepped towards him, clearing his throat. "Uh… Chef?"

"Seriously? Who orders ramen from a fine dining restaurant?"

"I do!"

Sakura's voice rang in the seemingly crowded but not so busy kitchen, prompting Naruto to turn in a rather ungraceful way, bumping into Konohamaru as he did so. Her head poked tentatively from the kitchen window, a huge smile on her face, rendering him speechless.

"Long time, no see, eh, Naruto? Wow your kitchen's pretty big! Very clean, too," her eyes were everywhere; the counter top, the stove, the carts, the pots and pans, the plates, the floor; even the window from where her head now peeked into was not saved from her scrutiny.

Konohamaru cleared his throat, snapping Naruto back into the real world.

"Ah," he cleared his throat too, feeling like he had swallowed a whole cup cake. "What kind of ramen, may I ask?"

Resting her elbows on the wooden counter of the kitchen window, Sakura gazed curiously her old friend just a few feet away. He was taller, even she could tell minus the chef's hat. She could assume that he was quite buff, based on the size of his uniform and how the fabric fit nicely around his chest and arms. The visible skin of his face and neck showed that his tan was still there, though that left her wondering how he kept it if he was always indoors - then again maybe it was natural; she never really noticed. His narrowed face and strong jaw definitely highlighted the whiskers on his cheeks. Had_ he_ grown.

Shino walked in between them holding a freshly baked chocolate sponge cake, suddenly making at least four people draw a collective deep breath, Sakura included. Konohamaru took the opportunity to step on the edge of Naruto's shoe.

"Don't look at me like that," Naruto muttered under his breath. "She's not-"

"I don't know. Surprise me." The edge of her lips curved into a smile before she disappeared from the window and walked back to her seat.

_What. The. Actual. Fuck._

Naruto turned away from the kitchen window, taking off his hat. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to recall if all the ingredients he needed were present in his kitchen. Then faced his staff and started giving orders: Lee to prepare the noodles. Konohamaru to prepare the toppings while he was to prepare the broth.

Immediately, he discarded the burnt sauce from the stove top, grabbed a medium sized pot and turned on the flame. Never had he felt so exhilarated; the feeling of his blood pumping through his veins and his every movement linked with precision, he moved through his kitchen with speed, checking Lee's work and Konohamaru while simultaneously dealing with his own.

"Chef Uzumaki, Ms. Haruno has quite the nicely shaped derrière," Sai's monotonous voice resonated through the kitchen. Apparently he had turned on the emergency direct dial; one that did not require anyone to push any buttons to receive the call on the other end.

Naruto could not hold back his laugh. "That's quite an observation."

"It cannot be helped, Chef. Her little visit through the kitchen window had her posterior jutting out and calling."

"Sai, are you checking her out?"

"Will I lose my job, sir?"

"Most probably."

"Then it is a no. Though I feel I must defend my actions. I was merely doing the checking out for you. Like say, right now your fair lady is starting at her cell phone with furrowed brows, looking very concerned indeed. Her eyes darken, a frown forms on her face - what hast thou happened oh esteemed Chef of the highest that hath brought sorrow upon thy lovely maiden?"

"Sai what the f-."

"-wither are the flowers and chocolates, where is thy knight in shining kitchen utensils-"

"SAI! Put the god damn phone down."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

Ten Ten placed the bowl on the table, slowly opening the lid and releasing the scent. A faint smile spread across Sakura's face, lowering her face to inhale the delicious scent.

"Please enjoy your meal," Ten Ten bowed before heading back to the kitchen.

Sakura poked meticulously at the contents of the bowl. The scent was fairly new to her, at least, based on what she remembered. There was a good mix of pork and vegetables; nothing out of the ordinary, but the arrangement was very appetizing.

Meanwhile in the kitchen Naruto stood leaning against the counter, eyes locked on a random tile on the floor. It didn't take long to make the dish, thanks to Lee and Konohamaru, and he had confidently brewed a flavorful broth, one that he was sure she hadn't tasted before.

"She has sipped the soup!" Sai's voice echoed in the kitchen once more. Lee and Konohamaru were huddled together by the kitchen window, peeking outside. "She has tasted the noodles! She is eating the pork as I speak!"

"What's her reaction, though?" Ten Ten inquired, trying to peek at the little space left in between the two chefs.

One long moment after, Sai's voice responded.

Naruto did not know how he knew that she was crying, but he knew that it wasn't because his ramen was bad. He had tasted it and it was delicious. Back then anything he considered delicious was just as delicious, if not more, for her. Sai did not even need to say it.

* * *

The carpeted floor silenced his heavy steps and in no time he had reached her table. She did not even bother wiping her tears, and the departing customers were shooting looks at her.

"Is there something the matter, Miss?"

Sakura looked up suddenly, surprised to see him there. She propped one elbow on the table, resting her cheek in the palm of her hand. "Since when did you start calling me _miss_?"

"That's rude," he could not help but comment, his gaze drifting to her elbow. He saw that the ramen was hardly touched.

"So is interrupting my meal, _Chef_." She looked away and picked up the spoon, scooping a good amount of soup and slurping noisily in his presence. He stood by, wondering when she was going to wipe her tear-stained cheeks. At least she stopped crying. She picked up her chopsticks and ate, not giving away the slightest bit of indication about how she thought about the dish.

Within a few minutes, she had picked up the bowl and emptied it, carefully placing it back on the table before tilting her head to his direction. "Enjoyed yourself?"

"Did you?" he retorted, ignoring the slight pang in his chest.

She took a deep breath and took the table napkin from her lap. "Did you come here for my commentary?"

"No but I'm not going to pretend that I didn't want to make sure you're alright."

"Really now?" she dabbed the napkin on her lips and cheeks, unperturbed. "Pretty sure that's none of your business." She made a move to grab her purse but he put up a hand.

"It's on the house."

"Careful, Uzumaki. People may think you're paying me for a positive critique."

"You can't critique when you're emotional, _Sakura-chan_."

She suddenly got up from her seat, eyes narrowed. "Thanks but no thanks." Pushing a couple of bills to his chest, she looked into his eyes. "I can pay for my meal, and you can keep the change."

Naruto could feel her fingers through the paper before she turned around and let go, leaving the notes to fall slowly to the floor.


End file.
